With the first light of dawn, the march began.
It was not only the revolutionaries who set out that day. The entire south set out. n, won, and the elderly. They carried the revolution's flags and chanted for freedom. They cried as they walked, and laughed as they rembered the years of oppression.
Their numbers approached eight thousand. Not all of them were fighters. But they were all revolutionaries.
The ground shook beneath their feet. Dust rose like clouds. Voices rose like thunder.
"Free Sorbet! Sorbet for its people!"
"Death to King Bekori!"
"Long live the revolution!"
In the villages they passed, the farrs ca out of their hos. So applauded. So threw flowers on the road. So joined the march.
The revolutionaries cried. They cried with joy. They cried because they could not believe this day would co.
---
In the northern palace, King Bekori was in an indescribable state of panic.
He ran between the palace rooms like a madman. He ordered his servants to gather everything valuable. Boxes of pure gold. Bags of jewels. Silver statues. Rare oil paintings. Even the silk carpets he walked on.
"Hurry! Hurry! The ship is waiting!"
His hands trembled. He tried to carry a small golden box, but it fell from his hands twice.
The servants ran in every direction. So carried boxes so heavy they almost fell. So whispered to others: "Everything is over."
Bekori heard the whispers. He looked at them with bulging eyes.
"Do not spread panic! I am still your king! I will return! I will reclaim everything!"
---
After hours of marching, the revolutionaries saw the capital's walls for the first ti.
They were high. They were massive. They looked fortified. But the revolutionaries were not afraid.
The front rows advanced toward the main gate. They carried their guns. They were ready to die.
But death did not co.
The gate opened from within.
The soldiers who had been guarding the walls had thrown their weapons on the ground. They stood in rows, their hands raised in the air. Their faces were pale, their eyes fearful.
"We surrender! Don't kill us!"
The revolutionary leaders stepped forward. They looked at the surrendered soldiers. Then they looked at each other.
"Accept their surrender."
More soldiers ca out of nearby buildings. So still wore their military uniforms. So had taken off their hats and jackets. They threw their weapons on the ground, one after another.
"We did not want this! We were just following orders!"
The revolutionaries did not cheer. Did not gloat. They just watched.
The revolutionaries entered the capital. They walked through streets that days ago had been full of the king's soldiers. Now, they were nearly empty. People ca out of their hos cautiously. So smiled. So cried. So applauded enthusiastically.
"They have co! They have freed us!"
The revolutionaries chanted for freedom, but no one knew who Pablo was.
Pablo walked through the crowds. He wore no distinctive clothing. He carried no banner. He looked like any ordinary young man. He did not care to be known.
If the World Governnt knew that this revolution ca from outside, they would intervene.
But if the revolution was from within, the governnt would not care as long as the new king paid the Heavenly Tribute.
---
When Pablo reached the royal palace, he gestured to Marco, Shigo, and so of his n.
"Co with ."
They entered the palace through the main door. There were no guards. They had all fled.
The corridors were empty. The curtains were torn. The furniture was overturned. The palace looked as if it had been looted from within.
They heard sounds from the upper floor. Sounds of gold falling. Sounds of hurried footsteps.
Pablo climbed the stairs. Marco and Shigo behind him. The n remained on the ground floor to secure the exit.
Pablo opened the large door leading to the king's chamber.
Bekori stood in the middle of the room. He was still wearing his royal clothes. He was trying to carry a large box of gold, but his hands were trembling.
Around the room, there were open boxes. Gold. Jewels. Gemstones. Even the king's crown lay on the floor.
When he saw Pablo, he stopped. His eyes widened.
"Who... who are you?"
Pablo did not reply. He looked at the king with cold eyes.
Bekori trembled at Pablo's gaze. He dropped the box from his hand. The gold fell to the ground and scattered.
"I am the king! I am Bekori! How dare you—"
"You are no longer king."
Pablo stepped forward.
Bekori began to retreat. His back hit the wall. His eyes were full of terror.
"Don't kill ! I will give you everything! Whatever you want! Gold, jewels, land! Just leave alive!"
Pablo did not stop.
"I will give you a position in my governnt! I will make you a minister! Anything!"
Pablo raised his pistol. He aid it at the king's head.
"Please... I beg you..."
Pablo pulled the trigger.
King Bekori fell to the ground. He did not move. He was dead.
Pablo looked at the body for a mont. He felt nothing. No joy. No sadness. No regret. He had accomplished what he ca for.
"Take these treasures." he said to his n. "Move them all to the headquarters. Every box. Every piece of gold. Every jewel."
His n began to work. They carried the boxes one after another.
---
Pablo stood in the king's chamber, reflecting. Then he called one of his trusted n.
"I have a task for you."
"I'm listening."
"I want you to bring the forr king, Baldog."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Baldog? The king before Bekori?"
"Yes. The beloved king. The one Bekori overthrew years ago. I know he is still alive."
"How do you know?"
"It doesn't matter. Find him. Bring him to ."
The man understood. He nodded and left.
Pablo remained alone in the king's chamber. He looked at the body on the floor. He looked at the scattered gold. He looked at the windows overlooking the liberated capital.
He smiled.
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